


Overload

by MedicalAssisstanceSpareChange



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Still bad at tagging, Terrornuckel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 14:46:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12344766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MedicalAssisstanceSpareChange/pseuds/MedicalAssisstanceSpareChange
Summary: Moo freaks out his friends when he has an overload, and Terroriser is the closest person who can help.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one's also gonna be up all in one go, just because I already posted it on tumblr - but keep in mind, that won't be how it goes for all my fics! After this, I'll be releasing stuff chapter by chapter. As for this fic, it's loosely based on my own experiences with sensory discomfort - I've never had anything this bad though. Enjoy, folks!

Of course, it would happen during a recording session. It was just his luck, especially when playing something as stupid as Mario Kart.

He’d been noticing the buildup for days. Little noises would draw his attention, like the squeak of rubber soles on a linoleum floor or the tap of an impatient fingernail on a table. It progressed to certain smells from there, his nose wrinkling and burning as the scents crashed into him and he would resort to his shallow breathing trick, which always made him feel lightheaded but surpassed his smell receptors somehow. Random sights would catch his eye and demand his attention, things as simple as a person walking a little too fast or dust motes reflecting sunbeams. More noises; the clink of silverware against ceramic dishes made him flinch, the clacks of a closing door made him wince, even the sounds his bare feet made on the hardwood floor set his teeth on edge. As much as he could delay it by laughing or talking with a friend, distracting himself with his own noises and sights, he couldn’t ever dodge the inevitable.

The final straw came from rage; Panda’s, of course, who else would rage so hard they hit  _every_ key on their keyboard, shrieked, smacked the desk, and tossed down the controller before slamming the door? Combined with the sudden, flashy movements of the game itself and the strange noises that his friends never stopped making…

Suddenly it was just too much. Everything was moving too fast, and not just because the game was at 200cc. The trees outside his window, shaking gently in the breeze. The almost-inaudible sounds of the controller’s buttons depressing in his hands; the feeling seemed to vibrate up his arms like an earthquake. The whir of his computer’s processor, the waving line of his audio file as it formed. Even the slight smell of his sweat as it dropped down his over-sensitive skin caught his attention, and he was glad he didn’t have his camera on as he dropped the controller and hunched over, feeling his shirt scrape across his back as he moved. The sound of his headphones hitting the floor made him want to rip off his ears. He needed it all to stop for a moment, for the world to pause so he could process. Nothing was sticking with him, everything was screaming for his attention, and he had none left to give.

“Oh my god, did Moo just rage?” Mini yelled in shocked delight, and Moo forced himself to uncurl for a few seconds, trying to desperately ignore how his skin was crawling in the slight breeze of his air conditioning.

Just long enough to say, “Sorry guys, I gotta take this call” and hit the mute button before he was running to the hall closet, slamming the door shut and encasing himself in darkness. It wasn’t enough; there was still a little shred of light coming in beneath the door, and in his hypersensitive state he could see the dirt on the floor, imagined he could smell it. Why was something as small as that so intense, when he wasn’t even really registering it? Noises from outside, cars passing, wind blowing, music playing and the smell of a barbecue. Too much, even in here, in the only safe place he’d found in his house, and it was like his memory was going blank, the information spilling back out of his head only to be sucked in again. He couldn’t rip his eyes away from the scattered dirt on the floor, eyes picking out the shadows each grain cast, noticing the contrast in the wood of his floor, all too much for him, and another wave of panic washed over his body.

His phone suddenly buzzed, and Moo couldn’t help it as he flinched and smacked his head against the wall.

Just like that, the overload stopped.

Moo hated what always came next. After every overload, he’d get a panic attack, which would only stop when he had no energy left. He needed –

His phone buzzed again. He still felt like he couldn’t breathe, but he wasn’t stuck anymore and he clawed out his phone in a sort of energetic stupor.

_Seven new messages in Da Boooiiiiiiis (Group Chat.)_

_One missed call from I IS WELDKAT._

_One missed call and one new voicemail from Le Irish Terror._

The panic was in full force now, and Moo could feel his heart beating out of his chest. He wanted to get out of the tiny closet, but he knew that the outside world would be too much for him, that he’d just get overloaded again, it had happened before. His breathing was hitching in his chest. Claustrophobia, why did he have to be claustrophobic when it was the only thing that helped?

One last time, his phone started buzzing, and Moo nearly screamed at the sensation of it on his leg. Just to stop it, he pressed a button, not noticing that he’d answered as he started to sob.

“Moo?!”

He glanced at the screen, wincing at the brightness in his dark haven.  _Le Irish Terror (connected),_ it read, and he cursed under his breath.

“Moo, talk to me, goddammit! What’s wrong, where are you? It’s been twenty minutes… are you crying? Moo, are you okay?” Terroriser’s voice was tinny through the phone’s speaker, not nearly as smooth as it was in real life. It was like someone was banging on his skull.

The screen was too bright. Moo flipped the phone over, forcing as deep a breath as he could manage and cringing at the sound the phone made when it hit the floor. “H-hhh…” He didn’t know what to say, what he needed.

“Please, talk to me Moo; you’re scaring me.” Terroriser’s voice was quieter now, more bearable. Moo closed his eyes and swallowed, ignoring the squelching sound the action made, and tried again.

“Terroriser?”

“Moo, what’s happening?”

His tears were building up, threatening to spill over, and the sensation was almost enough to trigger the panic again. Normally he could cry in private, let the attack wear itself out in the comfort of the closet or his own bed, but now he had too much to explain. He couldn’t escape, couldn’t just stare at a wall and let everything flee from his head like he usually did.

“Can you come over?”

He wanted to undo it the moment it left his lips. He didn’t want his crush seeing him like this, a sobbing overreacting mess – no, not his crush, his  _friend_ , and now the repressed feelings were rising up on top of everything else and there was too much emotion and too much stimulus. Another sob ripped its way out, and Terroriser had to repeat himself until Moo heard, and more importantly registered the information.

“I’m on my way. I’m on my way. Give me two hours, Moo, I’m on my way.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you like Terroriser being concerned about Moo then have way too much of that

Terroriser thanked every deity-like thing he’d ever heard of that he happened to be in the U.S. – incredibly enough, that he happened to be in the same  _state_  as Moo for some stupid meeting. The meeting was just far enough away that staying with Moo wasn’t a good option, but close enough that they could hang out for a weekend – or help Moo, as the case became. While he drove, half-audible curses and prayers spilled out of his mouth as he tried to figure out what had happened to his friend.

He’d seemed quiet during the session, but then again he’d been tired lately, saying it was just bad sleep. Even so, Terroriser had been concerned that Moo was overworking himself. It wasn’t until Panda rage-quit (with the loudest display of anger Terroriser had ever had the pleasure to listen to) that he’d gotten really worried; Moo  _never_ just disappeared on a session like that, not without warning them that it  _might_  happen beforehand, and he was  _never_  gone for so long without shooting them a text. And he’d sounded so scared when he told them he was taking that call…

Fucking hell, what was wrong? What had Moo been hiding from them that was so bad he’d  _asked Terroriser to come over?_  Hardly anyone had been to Moo’s house, he preferred to be the one travelling instead. What had that call been about, if there even had been one? Why had he been lying, and what about? He pushed it all aside for a moment, focusing on not crashing his speeding car.

In a private corner of his mind, he wondered if he’d be as worried if it was any other friend of his. He loved all his friends, but Moo was something special. He brought so much to the group, even if he was the quietest and calmest of them all, always trying to defuse a situation before he broke into that gorgeous laughter of his.

Yes, Terroriser liked him, and he wasn’t going to deny it. What was the point? Moo made his heart flutter and made him smile, and every time it happened he wanted nothing more than to kiss the man. So he wasn’t as straight as he’d thought; it didn’t bug him in the slightest. Sexuality was perhaps the one part of himself he never had an issue with. Although running over to his house to help him with whatever crisis he’d been struck with… Terroriser had to remind himself to keep his feelings and overly-forward attitude in check. Moo was in trouble, and that took top priority.

Terroriser let out a sigh of relief when he finally spotted Moo’s driveway. There was no response to his frantic knocking, but his phone buzzed again, and he was ready to scream at the distraction until he saw it was from Moo.

_Spare key, loose brick in top stair. Can’t answer rn_

_Oh, sure, that’s not concerning in the slightest_ , he thought with a scowl. “Shit, shit, where the fuck is it,” he muttered as he crouched down and tugged at the bricks frantically. One came up and he let out a little triumphant laugh, snatched the key and dropped the brick to unlock the door.

Inside, everything seemed normal, and if he didn’t know something was wrong he would have never suspected. The window blinds were open but the windows themselves were closed, the air conditioning was on and the house at a nice temperature; no big messes in sight, absolutely  _nothing_  to indicate anything was wrong. Except Moo was nowhere to be found.

“Moo!” he called, raising his voice to reach the furthest corners of the house. “Moo, where are you?”

He thought he heard breathing down the hall, so he walked towards it, keeping his ears peeled. One door was open, and when he peeked inside he saw Moo’s recording setup, still on and functioning. The mic was muted, and his screen was displaying a connection error, but what really worried him was the controller and headphones, dropped on the ground as if Moo had panicked.

_Knock-knock-knock_

The sound was coming from behind him and a bit to the left, and it startled Terroriser so much that he shrieked and whacked his head on the door frame, giving himself an instant headache. His vision swam for a moment and there was the sound of feet running towards him; suddenly Moo was standing next to him, asking him frantic questions and reaching a hand towards his head to find the injury. He seemed to be holding himself back, as if he couldn’t bring himself to touch Terroriser, and all Terroriser could really see was that his eyes were wide and panicky.

“Oh no, oh no man, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to scare you I just couldn’t, I couldn’t talk and – “ Moo’s terrified ramble cut off with a squeak as Terroriser pulled him into a hug, burying his face in Moo’s shoulder when he felt the older man shaking violently, almost shoving him away. His headache faded to the back of his mind as he let Moo go.

“Moo, buddy, hey. Let’s go sit down, alright?” Terroriser could see how hard Moo was trying not to cry, and it broke his heart a little.

They reached Moo’s couch, but when Terroriser tried to sit next to Moo, he shifted away, breathing heavily. Terroriser was a bit hurt, but he was more concerned with… well, everything else, to be honest. He needed to know what was wrong.

“You wanna talk?” he asked gently, watching Moo fidget on the couch.

“I…” Moo let out a scared huff and grabbed Terroriser’s hand, both of them flushing. He didn’t look at him as he muttered, “Just hold my hand for a minute. Don’t… do anything, please.”

For a long time, they sat in silence, and all that Terroriser could do was alternate between joy ( _he’s holding my hand, HE’S HOLDING MY HAND)_ and worry ( _why isn’t he talking, what’s wrong_ ), until without warning Moo curled up into the fetal position. The movement dragged Terroriser towards him and he started to hyperventilate, breathing so deeply that Terroriser could see his back rise and fall. He wrapped his arms around Moo, murmuring things he would immediately forget saying, and buried his face in Moo’s short hair, not noticing him tense up even more as he planted a quick kiss on the back of Moo’s head.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking is good. Moo denying the truth is not. Dammit Moo.

The first hug was too much, the hand-holding just right, and now this… for once, being touched felt good, like it was helping him. It felt like Terroriser’s arms were literally holding him together, blocking out the worst of the panic like a fortress wa-

_Is he **kissing** me?!_

Moo tensed up for a moment when Terroriser placed his lips on his head, but quickly relaxed, mentally chastising himself for his reaction. Terroriser always acted like this with everyone; Moo would never forget the time he’d tried to slap Wildcat’s ass and gotten shoved into the pool for it, or the time before when he’d made Nogla splutter by pecking him on the cheek. It didn’t mean anything, he decided, and then wondered why the thought of his crush not liking him made him so relieved. As if he didn’t have enough problems. With a sigh, he let go of his legs and grabbed onto Terroriser’s arm instead.

The calmer man took the opportunity to shift them both into a new position. Moo was practically lying down with his head on Terroriser’s chest; he was still curled up, but now they could look at each other while they talked. And they needed to talk, going by Terroriser’s face.

“Is this a panic attack?” Terroriser asked quietly, as if he could tell Moo was ready to speak.

“A-anxiety, I think, technically. Yeah.” This was good, this was better. A calm, steady heartbeat reverberating against him, their two quiet voices the only thing filling the air; the only movement was Terroriser’s breathing and his own, which was slowly steadying. He could focus on one thing at a time, and he chose to only listen to only Terroriser’s voice.

“What caused it? Are you okay with telling me?”

“Um, an overload, sensory overload.” He scrunched up his face; he didn’t want Terroriser to freak out over him. “It happens sometimes.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what that is,” Terroriser sighed. Moo could picture his little smile, coupled with a worried frown, but didn’t move his head to look at it. “Care to tell me?”

Moo sighed, surprised at how quickly he was calming down. Maybe it was the little circles Terroriser was rubbing into his back, or the relief that came from finally telling a friend what was wrong with him. “Sometimes… I get overwhelmed, just… it’s all too much.”

“Sensory overload… what, sounds get to you? Smells or some shit?”

“ _Everything_ ,” Moo said with frustration, hands clenching, “everything gets to me, all the little sounds that I can normally block out without a second thought and all the tiny details in the paint on the walls and the rug on the floor and the all the different smells from outside my house and the feeling of my clothes on my skin and the sounds and feelings every action makes, all the sudden I’m feeling and seeing and hearing everything and it’s just too much, I can’t handle it at all but for some stupid reason I have to pay attention to all of it, and because I can’t I start panicking and trying to focus harder but that only makes it worse, you can’t focus on everything – “

He suddenly realized he was ranting, practically yelling, and forced himself to stop and take a breath. Terroriser let out a little grunt of pain, and Moo winced when he saw just how hard his fingers were digging into Terroriser’s arm. If he had longer nails, he would have drawn blood.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, trying to release his fingers. Terroriser just shook his head and helped him remove his hand, but kept a loose grip on Moo’s fingers.

“It’s all right, I’m fine. You can keep going.”

Moo nodded. “When Panda hit his equipment, I just suddenly couldn’t take it.” Just like that, back to mumbling, and Terroriser hugged him closer. “I had to go hide in the closet, it usually works because it’s so dark but I could still see so I wasn’t coming out of it like I normally do. I didn’t realize I was in there for so long… sorry for scaring you.”

Terroriser chuckled, which surprised him until he said, “Hiding in the closet, Moo, really? You know I’m gonna have to tease you about that.”

The chuckle became outright laughter as Moo turned to stick his tongue out at him.  _What a brat_ , Moo thought, but he was smiling as well, and Terroriser was noticing.

“That’s better, that’s more like you,” Terroriser whispered, and Moo frowned.

“What do you mean, more like me?”

“I mean… not panicked, not sobbing your eyes out. That’s just… not what I think of when I think of you.” He shook his head, frowning again, and Moo pushed on his chest until he was sitting upright, leaning back from the Irishman.

“Dude, this  _is_  me. I’ve dealt with this my whole life; just because I try to hide it doesn’t mean it isn’t there. Just because I didn’t tell you, that doesn’t – I’ve always been this way!” Why did it upset him so much that Terroriser just wanted his happy friend back? Why did it  _scare_  him? “I’m not changed, I’m just not hiding from you anymore, so I really hope you can deal with the me I’ve  _always_   _been_  because I literally can’t change, however much I want to!”

He immediately felt bad when he saw Terroriser’s eyes go wide. If he’d hurt his cr- his  _friend_ by yelling at him, he might never forgive himself. The last time he’d done something like that… well, that person still wasn’t talking to him, four years later. His eyes fell, and filled with tears again; all he wanted was to be alone so he didn’t have to explain his problems to anyone.

But Terroriser was right there, not going away anytime soon, and he waited to be told that he’d just lost another friend to the issues that were doing their best to ruin his life.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Terroriser takes a risk, and honestly this entire chapter is just pureness and fluff.

Terroriser was absolutely certain he’d made a horrible mistake. A series of them, actually, starting with every single thing he’d said after Moo opened up to him.

He had never heard of sensory overload before. The name alone gave him a vague and highly uncomfortable idea; he wasn’t sure he wanted to ask Moo to explain it to him, but he had to know. His unease had grown as Moo kept describing what it felt like, and he’d only been distracted by the incredible pressure on his arm.  He’d let out a sound of pain when Moo stopped talking and instantly regretted it when he saw guilt flash across Moo’s pretty features.

That right there was another mistake –  _stop thinking about how goddamn attracted you are for a goddamn minute_ , he’d hissed at himself. Moo’s well-being came before his crush. Why did he have to keep reminding himself – was he really that desperate? How could he not put his friend before his own desires?

At least he’d made Moo smile with his “in the closet” joke. Normally puns like that were Moo’s territory, but Terroriser had been dying to make Moo smile. And then he’d gone and said something stupid, something that made Moo think he didn’t really care. Every word that left his mouth made him cringe, made him sound like a stupid idiot who didn’t think mental issues were a big deal, but his thoughts had always run out of him without any self-critiquing or editing. His actions, too, come to think of it.

Fucking hell, and then he’d tried to explain it to Moo and made himself into more of an ass. Moo had gone off at him, and rightfully so, and Terroriser was about to apologize when he recognized the brand of guilt going across Moo’s face.

In a flash, he realized that Moo thought he’d made Terroriser angry; more importantly, he thought Terroriser wouldn’t want to be friends with him after what all he’d revealed. He was trying to pull himself away before Terroriser did, and Terroriser tried to logic out his next move – but before he could rationally think through anything he’d grabbed Moo’s shirt and pulled him forwards.

Now he was kissing him ( _fucking hell why did I do that, I’m such a goddamn idiot_ ), and when he head Moo’s adorable squeak of surprise (and pain, he hadn’t meant to literally crash their faces together), he was certain that he’d just earned himself a spot on the “No longer friends” list.

So when Moo pushed back into the kiss and wrapped his fingers in Terroriser’s hair, it came as quite a shock. Moo pressed into him so hard that he had to lean back on his arm for support, but it wasn’t enough, and with a little yell of surprise he thudded down on the couch, looking up at a very red Moo, who was trying to stutter out an apology.

“Fucking hell, man,” Terroriser let out a laugh and sat up again, not sure what to do with his hands. He ran them through his hair, heart pounding wildly. “I’m not sure what I expected to happen when I did that, but it certainly wasn’t  _that_.”

Moo somehow blushed more, letting out that adorable giggle of his. “I didn’t think there was any chance you even liked me.”

“How could I not? Sorry,” he added, noticing a small bruise forming on Moo’s upper lip. His phone suddenly buzzed, and Moo’s as well. He glanced at his screen with a grimace.

_Eighteen new messages in “Da Boooiiiiiiis (Group Chat)”_

_Three missed calls and one new voicemail from “Fuckboi McGee aka WILDCAT”_

_One missed call and three new messages from “British Meme”_

_One new message from “Canadian Meme Jr.”_

He pulled up the group chat and typed quickly.  _At Moo’s, things are gonna be okay, we’ll explain later._  As soon as he hit send, his phone started blowing up again, but he ignored the virtual screams of frustration from his friends and turned back to his… his, um….

“Are we boyfriends now?” Moo chuckled, taking a moment to meet Terroriser’s eyes.

“Are you asking if I want to be? Because my answer’s yes, although we might want to go on a date or two first.” Moo leaned forward as a response, and Terroriser made sure to  _not_  smack their mouths together this time. It seemed Moo had the same thing in mind because the kiss stayed soft and sweet.

He pulled away for a moment, a thought crossing his mind, and Moo narrowed his eyes when he caught sight of the evil grin. “You know,” Terroriser practically drawled, “I’m  _really_  gonna have to tease you about being in the closet now.”

His new boyfriend playfully shoved him away, but both of them were laughing their heads off. Just like that, there was love and laughter shining out of Moo’s face, and it made Terroriser’s heart soar.

Moo was completely right, he decided as they walked over to Moo’s recording room, figuring out how to explain everything to their friends. Moo might be the sweetheart of the group, but he was also the person who got overwhelmed by the world and had anxiety attacks. And Terroriser would curse himself to the lowest circle of hell if he didn’t love him no matter what.


End file.
